Reset.

 Sometimes you just need to reset.  I do wish I had a download or upload capacity so that I could just plug into the Matrix and learn what it is that I have (or need) to learn. Then again, I'm perfectly happy with doing the whole student-study thing too. If I could make a living off of studying you'd see me doing exactly that. I love, I mean LOVE, to learn. I'm 100% behind supporting all sorts of educational programs and just stuff that really couldn't be less useful, but if someone (me) wants to learn it (Gaelic) I think I should have the right to do so; and I do. Thank you Jesus, I have that right. (Don't ask me to speak Scottish Gaelic, I really suck at it. I am having a great time learning it though.)

    So here I was, as I usually am, just minding my own business, and I was studying for the FINRA Series 66 test, which is actually a NASAA test.  NASAA is short for North American Securities Administrators Association. Each state in the country, and in some parts of Canada, have an Administrator who tells all of us what to do, when to do it, how to do it, and if we'll even end up doing it. We are quite literally at the mercy of the state Administrator in many respects.  The test I'm studying for is called the Series 66 test, and it is a dominant test really, comprised of the equivalent of two other tests; the Series 63 and the Series 65. If you have the Series 66 under your belt, you can do far more than you could with either the 63 or 65. I'm super excited about it, but here's the deal: I was studying, thinking I was at the end of the material so I could take my exam this weekend and I just realized (through absolute accident) that I had only completed 48% of the material. WHAT? How is that even possible?

    I put hours and hours, weeks into this study program. I woke up, walked the dog, had my coffee, wrote in my journal and then like clockwork, I headed off to the computer and studied. I went through the PassPerfect material. I did the online tests. I watched YouTubes with Dean Tinney (Thank you, Dean) and I did so many Quizlet flashcards on the subject, that my eyeballs are crossed. I dream about Securities! I thought I was READY!  I passed the mock exams with at least a 75% and  you only have to have a 73% on the real exam. Since I had consistently marked 75-78% (and yes, I made a 90 on one) I thought OK, I'm good! NO...NO...I am not good. I hit the NEXT button on PassPerfect to get my final results and they told me I had completed the first half of the material. I WAS GOBSMACKED and then I was upset, then I was confused, then I was nervous, then I was just plain pissed off. (for my UK friends that means I was mad, not drunk)

    Since my test was actually scheduled for Saturday, and this is Thursday, I decided to reschedule. You know, reset, and start the process over to a degree. NOPE. That didn't happen. The rules for the FINRA tests are different from others, I wasn't allowed to reschedule. I could either take the test and blow it and not be allowed to take it again for 30 days, or I could cancel the test, lose the $177, and repay the $177, and schedule it for 3 weeks down the road. You may ask what's the difference? The difference is if you pass it you pass it, but if you fail it you have that hanging over your head and you can't say you passed it the first go. You can't say you passed it if you failed it. I don't like failing. I would rather lose the money and reschedule on my terms! (Besides, 3 weeks sounds better than 30 days, and I was able to schedule it on my son's birthday. I feel pretty good about that.)

    If you fail the exam you can take it again in 30 days. But, you have to schedule it after the 30 days so it could be 45-60 days. I didn't want to wait that long, and as I said, I don't want to say I failed. I can retreat and/or regroup, that's inside me, but to say I failed just rips my soul.  I am a rather stubborn and proud woman, I suppose.  So the bottom line is that I did not read the full set of instructions (then again, I didn't know I had longer instructions to read) and I wasn't ready for the exam.  I did this the first time I sat for the SIE as well, but having no other option, I took the test and failed it beyond failure. I was just a mess and really hated myself when I got to the test and realized I did not know the answer to at least half of the 85 questions. The Series 66 has 110 questions. You have to have a 73 and I want that 73! I refuse to fail again; not if I can help it. I can reset. That is not a problem.

    Tonight I breathe. I take a hot bath, I meditate, I may even sit in the prayer closet and just let Jesus know that I'm OK and He's OK, and we're going to make this a good next few weeks so that I can attack this exam from a true position of preparedness. I owe it to myself to be the best I can be, and when I fail I fail myself. I can't live with myself when I do that. If you can, more power to you, but I need to be more in control of my own destiny. I hated to find out the way I found out. I would loved to have known a few days ago, but it is what it is. Money is money, and I don't like to use it, but God saw to it this week that I earned a bit more than I do normally - - and now I know why. It's always amazing to me to see and know that God has it all under His plan and His control. I learned something, and I was able to withstand the blow due to the fact that He had my back! 

    Reset. Redo. Rewind. Relax.  

Photo Credit: Grace Life International

Story Time!

 Everyone loves a good story, right? I am no exception, but what I am (as far as exceptions go) is someone who will openly (and honestly, thank you) admit to being that person you know who talks to themselves. I do. I am the one who will not shy from it. I will not make excuses and I will not deny it. I am forever and constantly talking to myself, telling myself sometimes the best damn stories out in this big green world. I can come up with some real doosies. Dang...I can entertain myself from the moment my eyes open to the second I fall asleep praying. I don't mind being blunt about this because I am just so damn good at it. George used to love it when I'd pretend with him being the hero.  Dachshunds are like that you know. They are super heroes in disguise. 

    Most of the time when I reach outside someone else's comfort zone, I'll quickly stir the pot by asking them if they talk to themselves and if they do, if they answer themselves as well.  It's not something the average bear asks, and it's not something the other average bear admits to (readily) anyway. Nine times out of 9.5 times they say no. I think I see them shift just a little, and they either cross their arms across their chest in an attempt to somehow protect themselves should I pursue the matter (I generally do) and they may sort of walk away from me. That's when I know the truth. That's when I know I have them....on the hook!

    Everyone loves to hear a story, and most of us have one to tell. I just like to make up new ones as often as possible, and let the day's events add to the fiction. I pretend (mostly silently in my head) and I create reasons to open my eyes a bit wider, my ears may prick a bit, and I could see something inside of something that wasn't there to begin with, but if it had been there it would sure add a bit of welcomed flavor to the overall tale of the day! I might start off with pretending I found a baby in the dumpster; cute little thing, and then start trying to sort out where he came from, who dropped him off rather than taking him to the hospital, it's just right there! I live about 1000 feet from a very large hospital complex. Was the baby born there? Was the mom OK, was the baby stolen? Too many questions. I need answers. The day begins and as it unfolds I create something really awesome with at least six or seven villains and super hero types along the way. If a speeding car goes down the street I imagine the person who stole the baby is driving that car, where are they going? 

    Anyway, that's the truth of it, and the fact that I can keep myself fully occupied is really a good thing because it adds to the events of what could have been a mundane Monday or a weak little Wednesday afternoon without a single breeze to carry my imagination into the stratosphere. I need the lift. I need the air! I want to fly and my brain has no limits with either how that happens or where I can end up after a few minutes of pondering. To be honest, I think I take creative license a bit far at times but whose to say if that's illegal or not; I'm the one footin' the bill on this one. I make it, or I burn it. I don't have to keep the wheels turning I can stop them at most anytime if I wanted to....but do I want to? Why would I want to? Oh, I remember...I have to pay my bills! LOL  I can't always be a writer. Sometimes I have to spin straw into gold.

    Anyway, that's my thing today. I thought I would answer that one burning question that you may or may not be wondering about me. Am I nutters? Nope. Just creative and fancy free. I don't have to be grounded in reality too long. I can pop off into a really great fantasy at any moment, and if I feel like I need someone to go along with me, you know I'm asking my husband and lover Naked Bearded Man to join me. Sometimes I even wonder if he'll be put that kilt on or just continue to swing it around while laughing and saying something in his deep and ever so breathtakingly sexy Gaelic; that man can bring me to my knees - - he's just so wonderfully Scottish. I mean, he's so damn Scottish the Scottish wish they could be him - - he's both rough and tumble as well as sensitive and protective. I'd love to take him more places, but without a stitch of clothes he could end up thrilling someone! He'd just bust a gut laughing if he did. There are moments I wish I could understand him, but he speaks so quickly and uses words I know aren't really even supposed to sound as if they are part of the Queen's English; rebel that one. 

    What about you? Can you admit you keep yourself company? Will you allow your inner speak to come out and play? I bet you could wield a pretty interesting story if you thought about it. Most can. I hope you'll not be like so many and shy from the challenge -- whenever I'm caught talking to myself I don't play it off as some do. I don't pretend to be singing under my breath, nope, I just look the asker in the eyes and continue my conversation as if I were never interrupted -- why lie? I giggle, and I move forward - - always forward. Always smiling. 

Photo Credit: WTWP.com

Muscle Schumscle. I Don't Want to see THAT!

 Like a dummy, like a big ol' dummy, I decided to stand on the scale. My thought process was that it had been a long time since I had done that, and since I've been eating better, walking, running, boxing, and lifting weights, I should be OK. I know my jeans were loose this morning when I put them on to go to the store. I really never wear jeans anymore. I would have said I rarely wear pants anymore, but my friends in the UK may giggle at me and call me "Cheeky".  The word "pants" actually means your underwear in the UK. Found that out after saying it a few too many times without realizing why my friends were blowing their cheeks out at me and spitting out their coffee. 

    So this morning, I decided I would stand on the scale and get a ball park figure as to what's been going on weight wise, you know, have a place to start. Nope! NOPE! I am NOT writing that number down damn it. It is NOT happening. I was so mad. I was so so so very mad. I literally stomped on the thing. I came so close to picking it up and heaving it across the room, and if I didn't think I would upset the neighbors or broken a window, I would have chunked it! I do NOT weigh what it said I did! I nearly said a bad word, let's just put it that way. I nearly said a very bad word.

    My daughter came running into the room to see what was going on, why her mom was literally pitching a fit and screaming before she'd had her morning coffee. I mean, I don't usually scream after I've had my coffee, but it is more unusual for me to be screaming before I  have had at least the first cup! I told her what had happened. She immediately took my side, she's smart like that. She blamed the sun in my eyes, she blamed the uneven flooring, she even blamed the scale itself saying it was in need of being calibrated. I love my daughter - - but she would be wrong. No, it was me. I weighted THAT much. WHAT happened? Well, turns out that I was to blame. Me. I was working out, lifting weights, and BAM....muscle happened. I put on a bunch of it apparently since the jeans are loose and the weighted bars are actually a great deal easier to pick up and maneuver.  It's me.

    You talk about hitting the internet and doing a much needed research! I had an interview to do in about an hour, and I wanted to get to the store before that, but I also wasn't going to rest until I got the facts straight in my head as to why I was teetering on being HUGE again!  Turns out that (according to www.healthline.com) a pound of muscle weighs the same as a pound of fat (this is true) but the pound of fat will make you look softer and rounder, while the muscle makes you thinner and leaner. Again, we all know this, but why was it that I could have lost 48 pounds and then suddenly put 12 back on without looking like it? I have muscles. I have biceps now. I have thigh muscles. My butt is a rock. I like saying that. My butt is a rock. The butt is the biggest muscle you have folks!  It makes sense. I mean, I still have soft spots, I still need to get rid of my lower belly, some spots around my back and chest. If truth be told, I would rather be as flat as a 12 year old boy than to be carrying these huge boobs around all the time, but if they want to become as hard as my butt and they promise to stand up all day I'll let them stay.

    The most difficult thing about working out, dieting, exercising, and lifting those endless weights, is that you really think you're going to go down in size and weight. I'm toning I guess.  I don't think I'm finished losing weight, but I'm packing on muscles at the same time and negating the whole weight lose victory dance! At least now when I do dance I can do it without toppling over or hurting myself.  I can also dance with an 8 pound ball in my hands. I wouldn't want to try that with my 12 pound ball yet...not yet. Baby steps!!  Speaking of steps, I bought an inexpensive (can't say cheap) treadmill to use at home since I'm not going to the YMCA. I have weights, a heavy jump rope, and I have the boxing bag. I can do this. The treadmill is inexpensive so it only has a few controls.  It's set to a higher incline and I can't undo it. I don't know how to adjust it properly, and I'm just sort of forced to put up with it. So I put up with it.

    I ran about four (4) miles on it today at a really steep incline and my calories burned was over 500 I think. I ran and/or walked a total of 5.29 miles for a total calorie burn of 685. Gotta love that. I'm dying over here and the dog is licking my sweat. I'm not sure if she loves me, or if the salt is just too much of a temptation. Either way, it's Valentine's Day so I'll take it. She loves me. I'm good with that.  Forge on folks, make things happen. I guess what this means is that I'll keep the scales but they have to go back into the bathroom cabinet. I'm not going to put myself through that again. I'll go buy a pair of jeans that I think I want to wear, and when I can wear them comfortably I'll pull the scales out and do the dance maybe -- at least I'll look good trying.  

Photo Credit: Me, but I took it from www.thecalculatorsite.com

Recycle, Repurpose, Restore!

 Yesterday I was in the local Aldi (OMG, I love that store) and as I was standing in line to check out the woman who was in front of me was literally buying every single package of bologna that the store offered to its customers. Now, to be honest, there was a part of me that thought inwardly, "Really, you have to take every last package?"  We do that, don't we. We judge.  Then another thought quickly replaced the original thought, "Maybe she's feeding the homeless and that's what she can afford."  I decided to ask. That's me. I do that. If you're with me when it happens, you may have to either just accept that I do that, or maybe turn around so no one will assume you're with me. I do ask. I open my big mouth, and I ask questions that some would think I have absolutely no reason or right to ask about. That's me.

    She looked at me. She in fact, took a half step back and turned to face me. She said in her very sweet and curious voice, "I am feeding the homeless. You wanna help?"  Oh my goodness!! The inner Spirit in me was doing the dance! Did she just offer me an opportunity?!! WHAT?  Yes, I want to help! Let me help!  I didn't let her see the inner joy immediately, I wanted to be sure she was going to let me actually help before I got too excited.  I answered, "Of course, what do you need?"  She said she could use more bread because she knows there's about 100 "souls", her word, and she only had enough to give each of them a couple of slices of bologna and 1 slice of bread. I asked her to hold my place in line. The man behind me didn't mind.

    I quickly ran over to the bread aisle and grabbed up what I could that would go with what she already had. I didn't want there to be a battle between men/women who may have received something a bit better than the other. While I was there I rocked over to the cheese aisle and picked up 8 packages of just plain ol' American yellow cheese, and three bottles of mustard and one bottle of ketchup. Some people put ketchup on their bologna, right?  I raced back to the check out and asked her if she could use chips.  She laughed. "Of course, we can use whatever you got" was her answer. I asked the man behind me if it was OK if I got some chips. He handed me a $20 bill and said he'd go ahead of me but he wanted to help too. WHAT A MAN! WHAT A WOMAN! I am so excited to be living near and among wonderful people.

    So yeah, I picked up 10 bags of chips too.  We checked out, we packed it up, and I asked her if she needed me to help make the sandwiches or pass them out. She said she would actually be doing that tomorrow, (which is today) and her grandkids helped her. It was a Sunday thing. Oh, a Sunday thing? So maybe next Sunday I can help again? She nodded and agreed to let me do that. Woot!  As she was leaving I asked her if she could use soap. I told her I made a lot of soap for sale, but there were dozens of bars I can't really sell for any profit really. She said she could use anything and everything, so I decided to go home, pack up the dozens of bars that I don't think will sell for this or that reason. I decided to cut them in half so they could be distributed to more people. I ended up with 58 bars. It's not 100, but it will work. If I need to I can actually just make more for them and not sell them. God doesn't mind if I give my tithe or offerings away this way. He makes it all.

    I can't tell you how awesome it is to be loud-mouthed, open, up front, blunt, honest, and out going. You can only imagine how many great rewarding opportunities are missed out on every single day by introverted people who either want to help, or wish they could muster up the courage to ask if they can. God was so very keen when He decided I needed vocal cords. I use them. I may not always be pleasant, and I may not always fit in the boxes that society has created for us to fit into, I sort of create my own moments of contingency. I don't wait for others to ask. I rarely ask for permission, it's just not in my Spirit to do that. I know when there's work to be done. Why ask if I can do it if no one is stepping up to do so? I do usually ask, but I don't take no for an answer if the person is overwhelmed or underassisted. I'm going to be there and I'm going to put my two hands out to help. 

    I am not a rich or wealthy person. No, I am not. I am not able to open up my check book and just cover any and all needs that may need to be covered. What I am is available. What I am is willing. What I am is hopeful that God will recycle me. That He will repurpose me. That He will restore me. The way(s) He does that is to let me serve. If I'm serving I'm smiling. If I'm smiling I'm making something happen. If I'm making something happen I am doing what needs to be done. I am no miracle maker, but I am trying to be like the Miracle Maker in my heart.  If I can see Him smiling you know my day is complete.

    I guess what I'm saying is there are opportunities all around us. We can see if we have eyes to see. We can hear if we have ears to hear. We can sing if we have the voice to sing. Remember God didn't say it had to be pretty. When I praise Him it usually has to be solo so I don't mess up the sounds of what others are producing. The joyful noise thing applies to me, and really, I'm OK with it. I don't have to be good at it, that wasn't the mission's goal. I just want it to be joyful and directed as worship. What I'm saying is, listen, look, watch, be there, be open, be available. You may be the one who needs the help one day, and really, there's that song again...I sing it in my head over and over again. "Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on.  For, it won't be long, til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on."   Just be there. 

Photo Credit: Bar-S.com

Prayer / Meditation

 Most of us don't take the time to fully appreciate or to fully complete a true meditation through either properly breathing (and trying to count or pay attention to the method) or maybe through prayer. We don't take the time because we tell ourselves we don't have time. Well, turns out we have more time to do this than we really may have thought.  We need to be really honest with ourselves and just say it; we choose not to do it.  We choose not to do it, and when we make that decision what we're actually doing is robbing ourselves of the healing process that takes place both during prayer and during meditation. There are key differences of course; let's go over a few of those differences, then we'll hit on the similarities.

    When we pray we have a different mindset than when we're about to meditate. Prayer is more often than not, a time to both thank God for things, but you know, and I know, that we pray for things as if we need to petition God for something.  We do. We petition Him, ask Him to be with this or that, to make this or that come about, to stop this or that, and we do it without really even giving any (or much) concern as to how it may make Him feel that we're asking in the first place. Do we not know that He knows what we need and want before we ask? He does. Nevertheless, it's still a good thing to ask for it as it makes the thing real to us. We put the effort in, and we feel that we have been communing and really that's what prayer is; it's a way to speak with and listen to God when He speaks to us. 

    Most of the time when we ask God for things we're the one talking. The times we listen, think, wait, and try to hear or feel God is more or less the time we spend in meditation. We're on the opposite side of the aisle now; we're the one being still and maybe breathing, thinking, hoping, wanting, or relaxing, and we're trying to figure out if the answer is going to be yes, no, or wait.  God doesn't say wait if He's going to ultimately tell you no. You need to know that. A wait answer is a yes answer, but it's just not time for it happen....hence the wait.  There's no way God is going to do a "psych" on you, tell you to wait, and then say something like "Just kidding!"  No, a wait answer is a yes answer, but it is not ready yet - - we aren't ready, it's not ready, something isn't ready yet, and God's time is always perfect. EVERY time.

    It takes about 10 minutes to actively run a mile. It takes me longer as I don't actually run, I jog-walk and trip into it for about 13 or 14 minutes, but I do finally get the mile in, which I usually count as the start to the workout. I don't feel like I've done anything until the first mile is finished. Saying that it takes about 10 minutes is important because I personally feel that if don't spend at least 10 full minutes in prayer during the day, I don't feel that I've started my walk with Christ that day. I guess I feel that I've put Him off, or I'm made other things more important. I used to use the time it took to drive to work to pray, and no, I didn't close my eyes when I did that. If I had to close my eyes to pray I may end up falling asleep.  Ten minutes is a good start, that's all I'm saying. If it's 10 minutes of praying or 10 minutes of meditation where I have a thought to think out, or just asking Him to guide my mind, I think it's a good start to the whole event taking place.

    I have to be honest, I've stopped watching television (I catch a few shows online) so that I can take more time in the closet to pray and talk to God about things. I do turn out the lights, and I do snuggle with my dog, pillow and rock, but I end up staying in the closet for an hour sometimes just talking and asking things, pondering, questioning, even challenging God to show me things. I've done that. I think for me, prayer is more of a two-way thing and meditation is too, but it's more me listening and waiting. If I spend 10 minutes praying I'll end up spending about the same time meditating just waiting and thinking about the prayer. I don't always ask for things, most of the time I'm talking about things and why they are the way they are; or why they can't be another way!

    Again, if I had to be honest, I'd say that lately (for about 2 and 1/2 years) I've spent much more than 10 minutes each day praying and about the same in meditation over the same topic and the same subject matter. I'm praying for someone, a specific, and particular someone, a someone that I didn't choose to pray for, but God asked me to so I do.  I didn't start out praying anymore than a quick reminder prayer. I have to say that, I wasn't going through the gambit with God, asking questions, answering questions, thinking of new ways that this particular person could find himself closer to God, but that's what it's turned out to be. God led me to know that no one was actually praying for him and God told me he needed prayer.  Though I didn't know the man, I knew he was married. Why wasn't she praying for him? I knew he had parents, why weren't they praying for him? Did he have a granny? Grannies pray! God pierced my heart with a thought; the man's granny was no longer able to pray for him, and that's why I was picked. It was her time to go home. 

    We know God's plan is God's plan, and no matter what He wants it will happen. This man needed prayer, and I was available I suppose, but we all know that God's timing and His planning aren't willy-nilly, there was a reason God picked me. I just couldn't have known it then; not sure I really understand it now. That's part of my time spent - - I keep asking over and over WHY GOD, WHY? The answer is always "Because I asked you to."  It's not a yes, it's not a no, but it is a clear WAIT.  So I wait...and I wait....

    When I'm in the closet praying I find that I end up singing something too; usually an old old hymn that I learned by memory as a kid.  I end up half breathing it and half singing it, sometimes I end up crying through it, and most of the time, because I'm such a good Baptist, I don't sing the third stanza. If you don't know you don't know, but it is true. I end up singing words like "Trust and obey, for there's no other way, to be happy in Jesus, than to trust and obey."  If I ever think I'm too busy to be in that closet I remember that He hung on a cross longer than 10 minutes and before He did that He endured hours of torture; I can give Him whatever time I have. He made that time.

    Meditation for me is not trying to cause my mind to be blank, a blank mind can be filled with demonic thoughts. I try to fill my mind instead. I fill it with words of praise, worship, or just psalms I've quoted a 100,000 times. I think of new third stanzas for songs I've sung all of my life. I even asked myself if that was allowed since there really is a third stanza and I really should go look it up. I do actually own a copy of the Baptist Hymnal.  Some people stole copies, I did the right thing you know, I bought it on Ebay! I was so proud of my little blue hymnal until one day my mother found it and took it home with her claiming she taught me to read it in the first place! I had to replace it of course, and all Ebay had was a METHODIST hymnal and it was red. Fine. Most of the songs are the same, but the page numbers are off.  HOW did I get on this tangent? Talk about rabbit holes!

    Ten minutes. That's my challenge to you. If you are on a treadmill, if you are walking or jogging outside. If you are doing something that requires you to be active and you need something to keep your mind occupied, try prayer.  Give it to God and let Him show you that you have a source of power to turn to when you thought the last strides would never be possible. If you're going for a longer walk or run, try prayer and meditation but keep your eyes open so you don't trip over a tree root or something. Give yourself the OK to turn off the television, to go offline, put down the cell phone.  You probably spend at least an hour a day on social media - - why not using Knee-Mail or Heart-Mail instead? Well, you may not agree with me, and I'm not asking you to agree with me. This is my blog, my thoughts, my opinion; it works for me and I wanted to share it with you.  You're welcome.

Ten.  Just try it.

Photo Credit:  Pure Gym 

Lights Out!

 It's right after 9:30 p.m. on a Thursday, and due to Winter Storm Landon our electricity went out completely. Not just our electricity, but all of the electricity on the entire city block.  One of the more interesting neighbors sharing my city hood is a large hospital complex with several offices and of course, an intensive care unit, heart and lung transplant patients, and so many others who are desperately in need of having the lights on a all times; 24/7, please and thank you!  When the lights do go out, and it's happened a handful of times since I've lived here, there are emergency back up generators for those folks, and for that I'm eternally thankful. I do tend, however, to say a prayer for them anyway, just in case something were to happen and they would actually be without power.

    I live in a complex, where, if you've followed my blog for any time whatsoever, you'd know that I have lived here just under a 100 years, and there are neighbors who were here long before me, and may be here longer than me actually. It does seem like we're all a bunch of Highlanders! Some of the folks are well into their 80s and I fear for them as well when the power shakes, rattles or rolls. Then again, it's the younger generations who can't live without a charged phone, hot coffee, or internet access. God forbid we have a real emergency come our way -- the older I get the more prepared I am mentally, and I do have a thing or two packed away for use in these types of cases. I have a battery operated hot plate. I own any number of flashlights, which for some reason I only use to find the matches so I can light the candles. You know I have a few more candles than most; I mean, I do make them to sell them, so yeah, I'm good on the candle end of it.

    My neighbor and his dog were walking outside in the two-foot snow drifts while the lights were out and I asked him if he needed anything. He smiled, waved, and said "Oh, you know, electricity if you've got any of that to spare!"  Love him. He's in his mid 70's and I think his phone is truly a flip phone, not sure if he even pulls it out to check to see if anyone's called. He still has a landline, so if I want him I do the old-fashioned thing and leave a message for him on his answering machine that's literally plugged into the wall! He said he had plenty of blankets; asked if I needed any, I let him know Quinn and I were just fine. Now, he thinks I have someone named Quinn living with me. I'm sure he'll get around to asking about that tomorrow. (Quinn is my comforter. He/she/it is big enough, thick enough, and tough enough to be given its/his/her own name.) My dog and I love Quinn.  Quinn loves us. It's all good.

    My daughter's geckos were my main concern, after making sure all the old folks were hunkered down sufficiently.  One of the things geckos are not is cold-natured. They require heating lamps, heating pads, basking areas, and the like, so Laura was wrapping each tank with clothes and duct tape to be sure they remained as warm as possible. When the lights came back on the interior temperature had dropped from 70 to 56 in about two hours. I'm not sure what we would do with the little lizards if we had been without heat much longer. We're going to find ways to fix that.  I'm thinking transferring them into smaller tanks that can be heated with battery operated lamps. That's my plan. It's a good plan, and if I think of a better one I'll let myself know. For now that's the ticket! Dogs and cats don't require such hoity-toity care....give me a dog any day!

    I was literally in the middle of listening to a podcast about mental health and the things that can cause someone to stress when the electricity went out -- talk about irony!  I'm not one to usually stress, but I do like to keep up with podcasts, articles and such about mental health awareness so I can better assist people when they have to freak out for a minute. I'm rather patient and able to defuse most situations with a hug, a talk, a hand-holding, and a prayer. When the lights came back on we had spent just over a couple of hours without heat, without lights, without television, without internet, without the ability to charge our phones, so charging them throughout the day really is a good thing to practice.  I think now that I have this sort of mind exercise going through my head, I think what I'll start doing is every week or so I'll just shut off the lights and reflect, pray, thank God for things, and just get back to the reality of what it would be like if  -- you just never know.

    God's grace is enough. I need to remember that. 

MY gecko:  Robert the Bruce!  I call him Bob

Him (A Poem)

 HIM

I could tell you that I love you

Or maybe write it in a poem

I could wrap my arms around you

Or whisper a sweet hymn

Will you ever truly be mine

Is my soul to ever rest

My joy is the hope

My happiness – your bliss

Could I mention you in passing

Would it be of any use

I’m not sure if you could love me

So why go through the hurt

I could tell you that I love you

Or let the days pass on

I could be there when you need me

If that is all you want.

I wear the mask completely

No one would ever know

I must be like a sidekick

I may even be a joke

I could tell you that I love you

Would you even hear

Could you ever understand

My heart is not my friend

Jude Stringfellow - November 29, 2020.

Photo Credit: Me

Master Composer! My Friend, Alan Williams.

 I don't even remember when it was, or how long ago, that I found the works of the master composer Alan Williams. If you've never heard of this man, I can all but guarantee you've heard his work. You can and should Google the man in an internet search so you can find the tons and tons of music he's produced and composed over the years. I'll list his website at the end of this blog, you simply must must must go hear it. I ended up buying so many CDs I think I have an Alan Williams Collection by now. It's not complete by any means, I would need a few bookshelves to hold all those CDs for sure, and I'd need eternity to hear it all. Good thing I have eternity coming up soon enough! I just hope I can listen to my favorite composer when I get there! 

    Besides being a composer, Alan also gives talks (even TedX talks) on music matters, a subject he is just over the top talented in and about. I learned so much listening to him and found myself playing the video over again to catch what I may have missed because he was just so inviting. I felt like I was at the studio myself listening to him. According to his website, and this is just too impressive, Alan has traveled around the world teaching his innovative process(es) to business people, world leaders, groups of interested people really who have both education and monumental music in their hearts. Just wow. No, wow is not enough....no words.  With such great films and television credits, this blog would go one for pages after pages just listing them. 

    Of course, on the website you can find the store where you can purchase his music. I would recommend thinking it over and coming up with a really long list of all the things you know you need to have in your collection. If I could just listen to one composer for the rest of my life, and know that I would find peace, harmony and endless bliss it would be Alan. Don't get me wrong, his work is not all soft and spa-like, no, no, no....he thunders! He's a creative genius with that wand of his! I bet anyone who works with him can tell you that he not only generous in soul, but in spirit as well, he just comes off as being the kindest most intelligent being - - the one you want the aliens to find when they come down to take over our planet. At least with Alan they'd know they found intelligent life on Earth, right?

    Check out what you can, and tell me if you love it. I know I love it. If I ever do get the movie about my dog Faith off the ground and running, I won't search far for the music maker! Nope. I've got my heart and my head set on that one. No better work out there, not in my opinion. Go...go right now, why are you still reading? Go listen to Alan!!

www.alanwilliams.com 

    

Photo Credit:  Alan Williams www.alanwilliams.com

I Can't Stop the Rain.

 I'm listening to Grover Washington's fantastic saxophone and wonderful harmonics at this moment. He's playing a great song titled "Can You Stop the Rain?" and oh, oh, oh, oh...it's smooth. It's so deep, and so sultry. I want to stop typing, turn out the lights and just move to it. I don't care if the neighbors watch me from their windows. I don't care if my shadow exposes my true feelings of hurt and mourning right now. I can't stop the rain. It's simple as that. I am not in any position whatsoever to do a damn thing about what it is that my soul feels too closely to. It is what it is, and my spirit aches within my being for someone who I don't even know, but I do know that he's not in a good place - - he's standing in the rain, he's going through the storm and I am not able to do more than pray.  So I pray.

    God has never allowed me to understand why it is that I feel.  I have a thing inside of me that I don't even know if it has a name, it could be something connected directly to my time in Heaven before I was born. It could be that the boy in the rainbow that I once played with is crying and I can't be with him. I can't reach him. I can't put my arms around him to pray with him, so I do what I can do, and that's sway silently in my darkened quiet space and I pray. I lift my friend to Jesus and I ask that He, Jesus, cause the rain to fall quietly, more evenly, and with the grace and gentility that will nourish and not harm. I can do that.

    Somewhere.  Somewhere in that out there, there is a man who I know but I have never met. I feel him, but I have never felt him. I see him, but my eyes have never found his face. I know he is who I am to hold in silence and my words, through my thoughts, as I repeatedly ask Christ to search my heart, and to request of His Father, the peace that passes all understanding for this friend of mine. I am in a place where I am at peace. I am in a safe, secure and wonderful existence right now, but my friend is not. He is hurting, and though I would fly to the end of the world to hold him and rock him gently as he experiences what he is inadvertently going through -- I can not. I can't do that. I can't help him. I can't stop the rain.

    Without being too transparent I will say that I am hurting from within. I smell something, something as small or insignificant as the bread I just made for dinner and I think to myself, "I wonder if he's had anything good to eat today." What right to do I have to do that? What right do I have to even think it, let alone wonder and ask myself. He is not mine. I know this. I can't stop the rain from falling on him, and I can't stop the rain from pouring its ever flowing waters into my heart reminding me that I didn't choose this path, or this mission. This mission was given to me. I accepted it, and I suppose for that I am now very aware of what it entails. I hurt. I hurt for someone else, not myself. I hurt and I can't fix it, but I know from whence comes the rain - - I know who to ask.

    Rest friend. If you are able to, please try.  Know I would be there if I could. I would visit, I would stay. I would return. I would never stop unless I was asked to stop. I suppose being here, so very far away and out of the way could actually be best -- reality can be a good thing, but so very limiting at times. I know what I know, and I can't know more at this time, but I keep my faith close and my God closer.  I lift you and I petition God directly for you. I can't stop the pain -- and I can't stop the rain, but I know you'll be protected by the rain maker; that's a promise He made us both.

Be blessed Tex.

Photo Credit: A Sprinkle of Stardust 

Free To Good Home(s).

 WHAT a GLORIOUS disaster!  From time to time I have to simply sit back and admire the grandeur of the mess, the mighty mighty mess, that I am often capable of creating. Yes, it was on accident of course, but wow, what a ride. I have to admit, when I was in the middle of the downhill turn on this particular soap pour, I wasn't all grins and giggles about it. I, was in fact, rather sad because I was using my favorite of favorite scents (Sandalwood) and I had added a bit (just a touch) of Caribbean Teakwood to add just enough of a coastal smell. I was going to call the bar "Sand" or "Surf" I hadn't decided. Now, I guess if I was truly honest with myself, I could call "Rice Krispie Treats Smothered in Maple Syrup" because that is exactly what it turned out to resemble.  What do you think? Yes?

    If you know me at all, and you should by now, you would know that I am the biggest goofball this side of the Pecos. I am by far the least tech wizard you'll find, and I could also be described as a royal dork! I am just not the best at really anything, but I do pride myself at being at least able to handle my own in the kitchen. Well, as it turns out, the kitchen may be where I succeed when I cook or bake, but when it comes to following soap recipes I have a bit more learning to do -- or just maybe I'll not learn more, and just give it a rest for a good while until I can find another reason to pick it back up again.  Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, you know, reasons like that. I don't need to actually make a bunch of money on the soaps I make, not after I sell the last of my success stories.

    This mess was brought to you via me (Jude) trying to skip a corner or two, and not really doing the needed research to do that. I'm like most people, I'm rather impatient, and since I've convinced myself that I already know most of everything there really wasn't a really good reason to do any research! I mean C'mon, how hard can it be to substitute palm oil in a recipe for solid soap? The little research I did manage to read between bites of my ham and avocado sandwich, led me to believe that using more avocado oil (good choice usually) was an excellent substitute....but maybe I wasn't supposed to use as much as I did. I'm not saying that out right mind you, but the fact that I could literally pour the oil off the soap after it sat for 24 hours in the molds makes me think that yeah....maybe, I did not do it the way a professional soapster may have completed the task....but only MAYBE.

    There was so many other issues rather than just the extended overuse of avocado oil. I decided to use less hardener as well because the batch I made the night before was too hard. Granted, the batch I made the night before had palm oil, and it also had more mango butter than this batch. I used a brand of fragrance oil that I hadn't used before, and or but there was a reason for that too! I had ordered the Sandalwood from two other places and the shipments have yet to arrive. Soap takes 18-22 days to cure! I was already behind on the Valentine's orders, so yeah, I just sort of ... fudged it.  I used WAY, (WAY) too much of the Arabian Sandalwood from Aroma Depot, and RIGHT THERE on the bottle I had a warning about doing just that. I promise, I do know HOW to read...but I'm just well, you know.

    Way too much avocado oil, way too much Arabian Sandwood (just a touch of Caribbean Teakwood nothing went wrong there) but yeah, then I think I may have added the lye water at a temperature that could have maybe caused the bubbling and the guey gloppy thing that sort of took over and made a ball of brain matter in the pot. I did the ultimate no-no, and used the electric hand mixer to try to even things out. LOL...if you're a soap maker you're laughing right now. If you're not, you can just start laughing and feel like you're in the right to do so. I was the problem from the beginning, the soap had nothing to do with its demise.

    Well, here before you is the end result. I let it sit in the silicone molds as long as I could really because I need them to make a good batch of something tonight.  I cut the loaves after I scraped off what appeared to be chicken fat but was really just the guts of the event.  I cut the loaves into pieces and they are now taking their 18-21 day rest before being hauled off into little packages to friends and family with a bow or something to try and make them seem more appealing. I could actually lie and say I planned it this way, and give each recipient of my master disaster a box of Rice Cereal and a jar of marshmallow cream!  I could do that. I could pretend it was preplanned, organized, and precisely accomplished, but then I'd have to give up the fun of kicking myself in the backside! I need a good boot from time to time.  

    There you go!  I'm so freaking human! Just proved it again.

\

Photo Credit:  ME